Remedy
by espergirl04
Summary: There was no remedy for what she was going through. Only those who wanted to help. RayNeela.
1. Chapter 1

This fic goes along with Why We Stay so it does contain domestic abuse. It'll help if you read that one first but it isn't entirely necessary.

Disclaimer: Don't own ER or the characters.

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He was drunk. Again. Neela waited for slam and it wasn't long in coming. The door shook in its frame and she wondered if the neighbors had heard. Of course they had, they always did. There had been the time they'd even called the police but when the police arrived she managed to dissuade them that there was anything out of the ordinary. It hadn't been hard to do really. The neighbors had left them alone after that.

Knowing that Michael would be angry at something or another she waited silently in the kitchen. If she was lucky maybe he'd pass out on the couch before he reached it. No such luck.

She lay on the floor blinking back tears, it hurt so badly. Searing pain coursed through her arm and she looked down at the broken glass, choking back tears she tried to forget about it. She couldn't. She couldn't forget his eyes and the cruelty she saw in them. She couldn't forget the broken bottle he'd thrown at her. She couldn't forget his fingers crushing her arm. She couldn't forget him throwing her to the ground. All she wanted to do was forget. And she couldn't.

Knowing that if he heard her crying he'd come back in even angrier she stayed as still as she could. Biting her arm she allowed a muffled sob to escape. Things had gotten past the point of being remedied. There was no love anymore. She admitted it to herself; Michael didn't love her…not anymore. Every night he came home angry and drunk. Every night she tried to help him. He hit her so often now that she wished that she could leave.

She couldn't.

She didn't want to admit that something in her life wasn't perfect, that something in her life hadn't turned out the way it was supposed to. That and the fact that she kept telling herself that she loved him; he was her husband after all. Of course she knew that she didn't…but there was no leaving now.

It was too late for that.

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What do you think so far? 


	2. A Little Help

Disclaimer: I don't own ER or the characters…so please, take pity on me.

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"Abby please, please don't tell Ray," Neela looked up at her friend with what she hoped was a beseeching look. 

Pursing her lips Abby looked down at the laceration that she was almost finished suturing, "Neela…I'm not just about to tell Ray, I'm about to tell the police."

"You would not," her jaw dropped slightly.

"Oh, yes I would. Why? Let me think, maybe because in the past month you've 'accidentally' managed to run into a door, fall down the stairs, and what did you say happened this time?"

Scowling Neela looked away. Why couldn't anyone seem to understand?

"Neela will you please look at me?" Abby bent down until they were face to face, "Sweetie, just look at me."

With a glare she turned to face the older woman and listened as Abby continued, "It's time you quit pretending that everything is all right. He isn't getting any better, if anything he's getting worse. Let us help you."

Let us help you. Let us help you her ass. More like let us throw your husband in jail. She most certainly was not about to let that happen. She loved him…right?

As soon as she was finished Neela leapt to her feet, "Thanks," she mumbled.

"Neela?"

"What?" she snapped with frustration.

"Either you call the police or I will. You are my friend and I am not going to stand by and watch this happen."

No. No. No. "Abby don't, please?" she felt tears coming to her eyes, "Just give me a little more time, he really is starting to get better."

Abby looked at her friend and could swear that she felt her own heart breaking. Neela's dark hair hung loose around her face, shadowing the bruises. Even in the summer heat she wore long sleeves and she stood with more weight on the left foot. Abby knew that it was because her left hip was bruised from when she 'accidentally' tripped over the coffee table. The worse part about it was that her eyes had gone from confident to fearful and pleading. She was beginning to take on the kicked around look that Abby saw in other domestic abuse cases. She wasn't about to let this happen to her friend.

"If anything happens again then I really will go to the police, and nothing you say will stop me. I just…I…" she felt tears come to her eyes, oh for the love of God. Turning away for a minute she sucked in her breath then turned back with a grim look on her face, "You're my friend Neela, and I refuse to watch this happen to you."

She could feel his eyes on her, had Abby told? She wouldn't would she? Trying to avoid the piercing gaze she grabbed a chart and prepared to busy herself. She felt hands landing on her shoulders and flinched.

Silently Ray cursed himself, he should have known better than to touch her. Clearing his throat he put on a lopsided grin, "Haven't seen you in a while."

That could be because she had been carefully trying to steer clear of him, she could no longer stand the look that he gave her. Ever since he had treated her for a fractured wrist and near concussion he started acting very strange around her. Sort of like he was walking in a minefield yet at the same time he was overly…nice. She couldn't stand it. She wanted her roomie back…the arrogant, annoying Ray. The Ray who wasn't afraid of anything. The Ray who was sweet and caring when he chose to be. She needed her Ray back, she needed someone to lean on. But he was scared, she could feel it.

"I've been busy, yeah?"

"Yeah…so…how have you been?"

So Abby hadn't said anything, at least not yet. "Good, everything is fine really."

"That's good to hear," he looked uncomfortable. "So, you're sure everything is okay?"

"Positive," she tried smiling at him, "I've got to go, some of us actually work around here."

He watched her walk away and slammed his palm against the desk when he saw she was limping. Looking upward he tried to gather himself together. He wanted nothing more than to see Michael, he'd kill the bastard.

Abby leaned on the desk next to Ray, "Why is it I get the feeling you just talked to Neela?"

"I don't know could it be the obvious frustration? Or the anger maybe?" he let his head hit the edge of the desk. "I don't know what to do…"

"Neither do I. I know that we should inform the police, but Neela's so sure that she can help him."

Ray laughed, "Aren't they all? Isn't that what they all say?"

"You're right," rubbing her face tiredly she glanced over at Ray. He had changed in the past few weeks. There was no longer any amusement found on his face. He was also looking a little grungier than normal, he'd never exactly been clean shaven but this was bordering a homeless look. "Have you slept at all in the past week?"

"Not since I treated her. I keep thinking that one night I'll get a call…"

"I know I feel that way too. I don't know when the last time I slept was either. I don't want to have to wait for bad news."

"Me neither…"

Suddenly Abby made up her mind, "She was in again this morning."

"For?"

"Laceration on her right arm."

"Shit," his hands curled into fists.

"She wouldn't tell me what happened but I could guess. It looked like it was from broken glass."

Ray sucked in his breath and let it out slowly. He was going to kill her husband. How the hell could someone do that to a person they supposedly loved? And how the hell could she stay with him. He was angry at both of them. "Where is she?"

"Ray," Abby said warningly but he paid no attention.

"Neela, we need to talk," he snapped.

She looked up surprised, lowering her stethoscope she motioned towards the young boy. "I have a patient."

"I'm sure he'll be fine for just a minute."

"This is not fine," she lifted the boy's shirt, exposing a string of dark ugly bruises.

Raising his eyebrows in disbelief he almost started laughing, "Not fine? Really Neela? Not fine…that's funny really. Because I thought your views on that sort of thing was that it's perfectly fine."

Her mouth twitched into a frown and the boy began sniffling.

"I need to talk to you, now," he grabbed her arm and she instinctively jerked back. He dropped his hand immediately, "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," she mumbled, following him out.

"You said you needed to talk to me," stoically she focused on a spot near his head.

Ray closed his eyes focusing his thoughts; he hoped that maybe she would actually listen to him this time. "I want you to tell me the truth."

"About what?" she finally met his eye, she was confused…the truth about what?

"Do you love Michael?"

"I…well of course I do," indignant she straightened slightly; "He's my husband isn't he?"

Clearing his throat Ray went on, "Do you care about me at all?"

She blanched, "Do I what?"

He went on, "Do you care about Abby, about your friends?"

Trying to see what he was getting at she nodded in disbelief, "Of course I do."

Holding her gaze he gently laid a hand on her shoulder, she didn't flinch this time. "Do you care about yourself at all?" his voice was soft.

Bloody wanker, it seemed that Ray had finally cracked up. Of course she bloody cared about herself. Of course she cared about him. She probably cared about him more then she cared about anyone else. And Abby, she cared about her too. "I do care about myself, thank you very much," she snapped.

"Then prove it," he dropped his hand and walked away.

Watching as he retreated she let out an irritated sigh before returning to her patient.

Leaning down so that she was on his level she began to speak to him, "What exactly happened James?"

He shrugged, "I was riding my bike and fell."

"Are you sure that's the truth, I can't help you unless you tell me," she said gently.

"I'm sure," he answered without looking at her. Instead he focused on a point past her head.

Watching him she couldn't help but feel a sinking in her stomach. "James please, tell me the truth," she coaxed.

"I did."

Sighing she tried to fight back her tears but couldn't help as one escaped. She bit her lip to keep from crying, she could not cry in front of a patient. "Let me tell you a story," she took a deep breath trying to calm herself. "See this?" she rolled up her sleeve and he peered at the dark splotches that ran up her arm. "Someone that I know very well did this to me, someone that I trusted."

Jameslooked up, his eyes widening slightly. Hoping that maybe she had gotten through to him she tried again, "What really happened James?"

"Promise you won't tell?" he asked.

She groaned, "I can't promise that." When his face fell she went on, "I can't promise because I need to tell someone who can help you."

"My mommy told me not to tell anyone."

Neela suddenly felt angry, this poor kid. "You can tell me, it'll be all right."

"My daddy did it…he didn't mean to though, he never means to."

She stared at him for a moment then looked away.

_"He didn't mean to, he never does." _

_"Neela, Michael knew exactly what he was doing." _

_"He was drunk, all right?" _

_"That isn't an excuse!" _

Suddenly she realized just how frustrating this was for other people. It wasn't just her being affected by it. It was her friends as well.

Walking down the hall she stumbled back as she ran into someone, pain shot through her hip and she felt her leg give out. Cursing silently as she hit the floor she looked up to find Ray with a pained look on his face. Kneeling down next to her he began apologizing but she shook her head, "It was my fault, I wasn't paying attention."

"You okay?" he stood up and offered her a hand.

She took it, "I'm fine." Once she was on her feet she looked away, "Actually…actually I'm not fine." She was surprised; it actually felt good to have admitted it.

Ray looked at her in surprise, "Neela?"

She smiled weakly, "I admit it Dr. Barnett, a certain little patient of mine helped me realize it."

He pulled her into a hug and felt her relax into him. She had finally admitted it, now it was time for him to finally help her.

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Yes, no, maybe? Please review! 


	3. Trust

Disclaimer: Do not own ER or the characters sigh

Hey guys, sorry it took me a little while to update. I seriously had no idea where I wanted this to go, there were so many options that I had to actually contemplate. Hope you enjoy it!

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Staring into the coffee cup she swirled its contents wondering whether or not it was safe to drink. Sighing she sank into a chair.

"_Michael, I'm so glad you're home!" Throwing her arms around him she laughed happily as he picked her up and spun her._

"_You have no idea how much I missed you," he murmured into her neck._

"_I missed you too," wrapping her arms around him even tighter she tilted her head and his lips met hers._

"_I love you so much…"_

He had said he loved her…he had meant it at the time, she was sure of it. It wasn't until weeks later…

"_Michael… I know that you saw things that you'll never be able to erase and I know that you did things that you aren't proud of. I'm just trying to understand, really I am."_

"_You have no idea Neela, and you never will."_

"_Then talk to me, Michael please. I'm your wife!"_

"_What do you want me to say? That I saw my friends die and I couldn't do anything to save them? That I had to…"_

"_If it helps then say it."_

"_Well it doesn't so quit asking so many damn questions!"_

_Taken aback Neela clenched her jaw and tried to figure out what to say next without furthering his anger. He had changed, war had changed him. "Michael, maybe you should see some one. There are places you can go, group therapy that sort of thing."_

"_Are you suggesting that I need psychological help? What, just because I went off to Iraq means that—"_

"_That isn't what I'm saying at all; will you please just calm down a little and listen to what I'm trying to say?_

"_I don't need this."_

_She watched as he stalked towards the door. "Where are you going?"_

"_None of your business."_

"_I'm your wife and I'm trying to help you, of course it's my business."_

_The door slammed; frustrated she flung herself down onto the couch. The phone sat on the table in front of her and she picked it up. Dialing the number she heard a click, "Barnett, leave one." Hurriedly she hit the end button and waited for her pulse to slow, relieved that he hadn't been home. Of course she had known that he wouldn't be. His shift hadn't ended yet._

She remembered him stumbling in completely drunk that night, and the night after that.

"_I'm all right with you having a drink after work but you coming home drunk every single night is not okay."_

_The fact that he was beginning to lean on alcohol rather than her was not healthy…and it hurt to know that he would rather drink himself into a stupor than talk to her._

"_God Neela, what the hell is your problem?"_

"_My problem?_ _My problem is that my husband—"_

_His open hand connected with her mouth, staggering back she lost her balance. Lifting a hand to her face she felt warmth spread over her fingers. Looking down at her hand she found that she couldn't say anything, tears were threatening to choke her. _

_Michael saw the blood on her mouth and smeared across her fingers. "Neela, I didn't…I would never…baby I'm sorry," he reached a hand down and helped her to stand. "Let me look at it, I'm so sorry sweetie. I didn't mean it, I wasn't thinking."_

_She couldn't say anything, only cry as she realized that her life was dissolving out of her control. She had gone with the nice safe guy…and it had been the wrong decision._

Everything had fallen apart after that, though when she really thought about it…it had fallen apart before it had begun. The wedding had been spur of the moment, not what she had planned. The sari had been white not red, not what she had planned. Her husband had left her soon after, not what she had planned. And what happened next she had certainly not planned on nor had she ever even been able to imagine it could even happen.

"_Michael, it's nearly three in the morning. You have to go to work at six and I highly doubt they'll appreciate you going in drunk. Especially when you work at a hospital."_

_He scoffed, "I'm not drunk."_

"_Like hell you aren't." She grabbed his shoulders but he shrugged her off._

"_Don't talk to me like that Neela." He tried to focus on her._

"_Like what?" she snapped._

"_That, you're my wife and I want you to listen to me now. Stop telling me what to do."_

"_Michael, I'm trying to help you!" she let out a scream of frustration, "Just once I wish you'd come home sober."_

"_Are you accusing me of being a drunk?" he hissed._

_Knowing she was treading dangerous ground she plowed on, "Yes all right? Yes I am, and I'm telling you right now that you need help!"_

"_You're going to want to stop now," his eyes turned cold._

"_No, either you get help or I'm leaving." She wouldn't leave, but he didn't know that and she wanted to see his reaction._

_He grabbed her wrist so hard that she flinched. "Michael you're hurting me!"_

"_You're threatening to leave?"_

_A sob escaped her and he yanked her to him, "I've seen this coming, you've been cheating on me haven't you? Haven't you!" he was yelling now._

"_No, I'd never do that…I love you…" she was crying so hard now that her words came out in gasps._

"_It's that old roommate of yours isn't it, that punk kid…I should have known."_

"_I haven't been cheating on you!" She knew arguing was useless, he was past the point of rationality._

"_Damn it Neela!" he swung her around wrenching her arm so hard that she heard a crack. Her wrist…_

Trying not to think about it anymore she dumped her coffee into the sink, her shift was long over.

"Neela, there's someone here to see you." Luka's accent seemed heavier than usual and she had a feeling that he was unhappy about something. "We are all here for you." Seeing her hesitation as his words sunk in he gently took her by the elbow, "I'll be right behind you."

Her mind seemed to be in overload as a million questions ran through it. "Where's Ray?" she asked frantically. He had said he'd be there to help her, where was he now?

Luka squeezed her arm in reassurance, "Calm down Neela, he can't hurt you here."

He could, Luka didn't understand. "What's he doing here?" By this point Luka practically had to push her down the hall.

"I have no idea," his voice was soothing. Realizing that she had been holding her breath she let it out. She wasn't going to be afraid. No, she was going to be strong. Straightening she pulled away from Luka's grip and strode forward. He was waiting for her.

Looking at him under the fluorescent hospital lights no one would be able to tell that he was a man who would beat his wife. He looked prim and military like even in his every day clothes.

Don't be afraid…don't be afraid…she hoped that if she repeated it enough times then she wouldn't be.

"Michael, what are doing here?" she asked with what she hoped sounded like concern, her voice was strong and even. So far so good.

"Just wanted to stop by and say hello to everyone."

She saw that Pratt was standing by looking decidedly uncomfortable. There was no doubt that it was because Michael seemed perfectly normal, like he hadn't changed at all. Neela knew that if she didn't haven the bruises no one would suspect that anything was different.

"Oh…well…is that all then?" she asked hoping that he would just let everything go. She tensed as he reached for her.

"Actually," he drew her to him and she found herself completely frozen. He pretended not to notice her reluctance, "I was hoping that since your shift is over you might want to go out to dinner with me."

An inexplicable fear took hold; somehow she hadn't realized that she'd been sitting in the lounge for that long. Michael must have come home and found her gone then come looking for her. No doubt he was angry. She had to hand it to him though, he was covering it quite well.

"Neela?" he asked her with a pinched smile.

"Sure, just ah…just let me collect my things…get changed…" she motioned at her scrubs. "I was held up," she prayed that someone would help her out.

"Sorry to keep her Gallant, there was a trauma and we needed her." Luka tried to smile but found he couldn't. Not when Neela looked like she wanted to crawl under the admit desk and Michael was looking and sounding so…normal.

She managed to break away from him, "I'll be back in a moment. You can catch up with the guys." It surprised her how pleasant she sounded. Walking away she was conscious of everyone's eyes on her.

Hands trembling she reached into her locker, there was no possible way that she could walk back out there. She just could not bring herself to do it.

"Neela, what's going on?"

Spinning around she simultaneously backed into the lockers then nearly laughed with relief. Half of her had expected it to be Michael. Instead it was Ray. "What do you mean what's going on?"

"I mean why exactly did Abby just tell me that Michael was here?"

"Because he is…" she replied with a shrug, hoping that it passed as unconcerned.

Ray looked at her closely, "And are you going to do anything?"

"About what?" No. Oh no. She was not ready for this.

"Neela, you admitted it. Things are not all right and you need to face up to it. You need to get Michael to face up to it." He looked her in the eyes, "You have to do this. You have to. For you, for him, for all of your friends."

She had never seen him so serious before. "For some reason I don't think I can."

"I know you can do it."

"How"

"You'll just have to trust me on it."

She trusted him. Whether foolish or not she trusted him.

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